Crossed Blades
by Modulated
Summary: The prequel to "The Tea Shop," this is a KentaroxMotoko fic that further explores the possibility of Keitaro being absent in episode 25, and therefore expanding upon Kentaro's character.
1. Chapter 1

Motoko Aoyoma awoke with a frightful scream.

Several people on the bus turned towards her in fright, some with looks of curiosity upon their faces. One young man asked her if she was alright. She nodded quickly, saying she had only had merely a bad dream. Gradually people around her lost interest.

When her buss pulled to a stop in Hinata, she bolted of quickly. Her dream had been quite strange; the last time she had dreamed of her sister was before Keitaro had left. As she walked towards Hinata house, her thoughts drifted once again to Keitaro Urashima. It had only been about two months since the fateful night when Keitaro, with no warning at all, had taken up and completely left Hinata. She knew little about the incident, she had been awoken by Shinobu on the pretext that Keitaro had been behaving strangely. Fearing some perversion to be afoot, she had followed the noise Keitaro made as he left out into the pouring rain, but she was too late. She arrived just in time to see the taxi speed him away from her life.

Another girl in the house, Naru Narusegawa had been inconsolable over Keitaro's sudden departure. Whenever Keitaro's name was mentioned, she would burst into tears, and run quickly to her room. Recently, she had returned to her family's home, unable to deal with whatever demon that was currently plaguing her.

Her thoughts still on Keitaro, it took Motoko a moment to recognize her own sister as she stepped into the living room.

A terrible terror gripped her.

She stumbled back, into the opposite wall from where her sister sat on the couch.

"Sister!" she screamed, so that the attention of everyone in the room suddenly shifted to her.

"Hello, Motoko dear," greeted her sister pleasantly, affixing a bright smile to her face. Motoko had seen that smile many times, it was the smile her sister gave disobedient students right before she proceeded to beat them to within an inch of their lives.

"Sister, why have you returned?" inquired Motoko, her voice shaking with fear.

"Why, to take you home dear sister," the words took a moment to sink in, "Well, shall we be going?" She then proceeded to grab Motoko by the hair and drag her from the room.

All around her, Motoko's friends began to protest her sudden departure, but she knew it was to no avail. She was hopeless, until she spied Kentaro Sakata leaning against the kitchen door, wearing a wide grin and an apron as well as a dishtowel slung over his shoulder. There was no other choice.

With a surprising display of physical as well as psychological force, Motoko escaped her sister and ran to Kentaro, clutching his arm desperately to her. As she ran towards him, she could not help but chuckle inwardly at the look of utter amazement on his face. The poor fool.

"Sister! Wait! I cannot leave!"

The older woman looked at her with a look of skepticism, "Oh? And why is that?"

Motoko took a deep breath, and tried desperately to swallow her pride, "Because I'm marrying this man!"

There was utter silence.

"WHAT???

Kentaro Sakata was beginning to have a very bad day. He remained, rooted to the spot, utterly shocked that he was actually marrying Motoko. Until, of course he remembered that he was not marrying Motoko. He remained rooted to the spot anyways.

Motoko's apparent sister was the first one to move.

"Oh really?" she said politely, "Well, than I guess we can stay for a little while." She sat calmly back on the couch and began to sup her tea once again.

"Er, would you excuse us for one moment, sister?" asked Motoko as she yanked Kentaro forcefully into the kitchen. The rest of the Love Hina crew followed in on their heels.

"What the hell is going on?!" demanded Kentaro as he regained his senses.

"Yah, what's up, Motoko?" asked Su.

To Kentaro's surprise, Motoko looked at him with a pleading look in her eyes, "Mr. Sakata, please, I need your help. You all know how I'm supposed to inherit my family's school, right? Well, it seems my sister has returned to take me back there early. And, well, I'm not ready for it. I can not yet match her skill with the blade, and if I return and am defeated by my sister, I will be cast out from my family. I'm sorry, but this is the only way to postpone my departure."

Kentaro was struck by her sincerity, and paused for a moment before answering, "I'll help you, Motoko."

Motoko's older sister regarded the young couple sternly. They sat opposite from her on a couch. Motoko's eyes were downcast, and her hands were folded in her lap. The young man sat in a relaxed position with both arms stretched along the back of the sofa.

"So, I understand you are an Economy major at Tokyo university, correct?"

The young man nodded slowly, "That is correct, Mrs. Aoyoma."

"And what do you think you are a good match for my little sister?"

"Sister!" stuttered Motoko, surprised, but Kentaro answered coolly.

"I admire Motoko's grace and beauty, as well as her discipline, "Motoko's face grew crimson as Kentaro spoke, and she sat bolt upright as he wrapped his arm casually about her shoulders, "I am a hardworking man, and I know I can support all of her ambitions."

Tsukuro smiled at the young man, Tokyo University was indeed prestigious, and there was something in his calm nature that lended itself to trust. However, a few tests were still in order.

"Since you are engaged," she began, "You of course would be willing to show a poor old married woman how you two kiss?" Kitsune had been standing behind the sofa, drinking. As she heard the older sister's words, she fell to the ground, suppressing a riotous laugh as Shinobu kicked her anxiously in the stomach.

"Sister! I hardly think that's it is appropriate-"interjected Motoko in a panicked tone.

"You cannot do it?" asked Tsukuro coldly.

"Of course we can!" exclaimed Motoko, rising to her feet and tapping Kentaro on the shoulder. He rose as well, watching her for a moment, considering his options. Finally, he decided against running away as quickly as possible. He leaned in slowly, taking Motoko's face into his hands.

"I'm sorry, Motoko," he muttered so softly so that only Motoko could hear him before enveloping her in a light kiss. It lasted only a few moments, and a torrent of emotions swept through Motoko before he quickly pulled away.

Kitsune stared, stunned, as she caught Shinobu as the younger girl feinted into her arms. The cigarette dropped from Haruka's mouth as Tsukuro and her strange pet bird clapped lightly.

"Oooh, what a wonderful kiss!" she exclaimed with mock-happiness. Motoko sank defeated into the couch and Kentaro took his seat as well.

Haruka was the first to recover, "Er, if you'll be staying with us, Mrs. Aoyoma, you simply must visit our hot spring here."

"Hot spring," mused Tsukuro as a new test came to mind, "If you two are truly engaged, you must take baths together, correct?"


	2. Chapter 2

Maybe "bad" wasn't a strong enough descriptor for it. Perhaps, awful, horrific, and excruciating would be more suiting. Forced to pretend to marry someone? And now the humiliation of _bathing _with her? Not to mention the incredible amount of danger he was in, if she so much as suspected… well, anything of him; she was liable to throw him through the nearby rocks, Sister be damned. Yes, bad certainly wasn't a strong enough word for the situation Kentaro Sakata now found himself in. Why? Why had he gotten into the idol business? What had he done to deserve this? A ruined business and a debt-slave job working over the stove of a tea shop kitchen… it was almost too much to bear. 

However….

The kiss with Motoko hadn't been that bad. It was a once in a lifetime accomplishment, really. Making out with a swordswoman of the Shinmeryuu. Even for a playboy like himself, it was quite an accomplishment. Also, he had yet to take into account her feelings.

Poor girl; it couldn't be easy for her. After all, he was relatively accustomed to this sort of play-acting; but being forced to act like she had feelings for someone she truly despised; it must be awful for her. After all, she must despise him, right? A failed businessman and a playboy, he was practically the spitting image of everything she hated in men. And yet, in her moment of need, she had relied on him, opened up to him. Yes, it would have been cruel to not take into account her feelings. He should try to ease her suffering, or at least not exacerbate it. Perhaps he could make it up to her somehow? Perhaps there was something more to this than play-acting?

"Motoko-" he began.

"Don't. Talk."

Well, so much for that theory. He sighed, and reached up to adjust the blindfold Motoko had tied over his eyes.  
"Don't touch the blindfold, either."

She was beginning to try his patience "Well did you have to tie it so damn tight? I fell like I'm going to faint from the blood loss!"

"I tied it tightly so that a man with such little willpower over himself could be reminded to refrain from looking upon a young woman's body with lust. Consider it penitence for your lustful ways. Who knows? Perhaps it will do you some good."

"Lack of willpower? Lustful ways? What kind of guy do you think I am? And it's not like you've got anything I haven't seen." Kentaro realized the mistake of his words as soon as he said them, and if he hadn't, he certainly realized it as Motoko's palm slapped him hard across the face.

"You impudent pig! To even think of taking advantage of a young woman in such desperate straights!" she fumed. Kentaro cringed in pain, and hoped silently that the slap wouldn't leave a mark.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to upset you, honestly, that hurt!"

"Good!"

"My, my… what's all this? A lover's quarrel?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Sister!" exclaimed Motoko. Despite the blindfold, Kentaro could tell that Motoko was more terrified than usual of her sister. Why was she so scared of her seemingly kind and gentle, if maybe a bit discipline-heavy sibling?

"I certainly hope I'm not interrupting anything, dear sister," intoned the older woman in her saccharine voice. Kentaro heard the splash of water as she stepped down into it. As far as he could tell, he was now in between the two swordswomen, his back against a rock, facing away from Motoko and towards her sister. He had the distinct feeling of being a piece of meat between two ravenous hyenas; kind of like the time he'd visited his niece at her catholic all-girls school…

"N… not at all, sister, we were just… uh…" Motoko trailed off.

"Bathing." Supplied Kentaro dryly.

"Yes! Bathing!

"Then why, may I ask, is your fiancée wearing a blindfold?"

"Because… um…"

"Oh, just a little game we like to play," remarked Kentaro casually, rising to his feet, making sure his towel remained secured around his midsection. Why was he doing this? Did he really expect to fool her with excuses? And when she concluded that he had helped Motoko in her deception… well, it wouldn't just be Motoko at the receiving end of a katana, would it? However, he had pledged to help Motoko, and he did pride himself of following through… besides, if he played his cards right, it might actually be a little fun!

"A game?"

"Oh yes, you see, you came in just as the blind swordsman and his long lost love were to be reunited!" Kentaro could physically _feel_ Motoko's icy glare on the back of his head, but he was having too much fun to stop. After all, if he was going to die, might as well die happy!

"Tell me… do you and my sister play many of these games?"

"Of course! Let's see, there are the Office Lady and the Wolf, the Lovers and the Sorceress… Motoko, what are some other ones?"

"I _hardly_ think it's appropriate to speak of such things, _dear_," grinded Motoko menacingly. Oh, was she going to get him for this! He'd be walking crooked for days after she got through with him.

"Nonsense! After all, I'm sure your sister is quite interested in such details of her little sister's happy life here at Hinata House-"

"That's enough." Kentaro stopped short as the older woman's voice took on a suddenly sharp tone. "Your clever excuses and play-acting have been amusing, but it is high time my sister faced her destiny."

"Sister…" Murmured Motoko softly. Well, it was inevitable. At most she could have postponed her departure a little more, but it wouldn't have mattered. Her sister was too clever to be fooled by such a simple ruse. She wondered if she would ever return to Hinata House. Would she ever see her friends again? The women she had looked up to, Naru, Mutsime, Haruka… even Kitsune, in an odd way. Se would surely miss Shinobu's cooking, and who would keep Kaolla and Sarah in line with her gone? She might even miss Kentaro, despite his selfishness and greed, he had tried to make her into a pop-star, and had even tried to help her now, despite his shameful behavior. And still, would she ever see Keitaro again? Still, it was best to simply resign herself to fate.

"Your behavior is of a most inept and cowardly manner, Motoko. I was hoping I could have disciplined you at home, thus sparing you the humiliation of being beaten in front of your peers. But your skills have dulled, and I grow tired of your childish-"

"NO."

What was he thinking? Standing up to a swordswoman of the Shinmeryuu. Bravery and chivalry were nice in theory, but what he was doing was sure to get him killed. Once again, Kentaro asked God why he had ever come to Hinata House. Oh well, he was all in now, might as well see it through to its inevitable, painful, bloody conclusion.

Tsuruko was taken aback, momentarily, shocked by this young man's audacity, "What. Did. You. Say?"

"You heard me!" snapped Kentaro, "Say whatever you want about me, but I'm not going to stand here and let you take away my fiancée, much less hurt her!"

A fury rose in Tsuruko's chest, who was this man to question her rule over her family? He had to be taught a lesson in manners, not to mention how far to take a joke.

Kentaro stood his ground, hoping that he was still between Motoko and her by-now enraged sibling. He brought himself into what he hoped looked like a combative stance, still not daring to remove the blindfold.

The swordswoman's sheathed blade caught him square in the stomach, doubling him over like a paper doll. Motoko could only watch in horror as Kentaro fell to his knees. What was he doing? Didn't he realize that his sister would now kill him? Could it be that he actually - No. That was impossible.

Tsuruko grinned down at Kentaro, resting the sheath of her blade across her shoulders. That should teach him to interfere in the affairs of the Shinmeryuu clan. She mused to herself about the best way to "re-educate" her sister to keep her from pursuing such worthless men.

Kentaro felt as if he'd been hit by a wrecking ball, but he could feel Motoko's sister's mocking eyes upon him. To fail so miserably so quickly… it looked downright pathetic. He wasn't done yet. Shakily, he got to his feet, still wondering what in the world he hoped to accomplish.

Tsuruko looked at the young man incredulously as he slowly stood up, once again blocking her path to her sister. Was he really so foolish?

Motoko watched in horror as her sister once again knocked Kentaro to the ground. Again, he rose. One, two, three, four, five times her sister spilled him across the rocks. This time cracking his head upon a rock, that time nearly fracturing his ribs.

By the fourth blow, Kentaro was coughing up blood and his body felt only pain. As her rose a seventh time, he knew he could take no more, the finishing blow was coming.

Tsuruko was astounded by her own misjudgment. A normal man would have died from the beating she had just dealt, but here was this playboy, this silver-spoon fop who still opposed her, clutching his side, blood trickling from his mouth, and still a blindfold over his eyes for fear of offending her chastity. Had Motoko found a worthy husband, here in this cesspool of decadence and luxury? She looked at her sister; Motoko's eyes were wide with terror and her arms knotted together in anxiety. That look, she herself had once possessed that look, as her husband lay prostrate… bleeding… One more test was in order.

Motoko could not imagine his intentions. What did he hope to gain? If she was trying to impress him… but surely he wouldn't go so far for just that. What was she thinking! He was hunched over, bleeding! No, he was not as shallow as she had thought. What could be compelling him to- But wait, was that possible? That he actually loved-. No. It couldn't be. It was impossible! She had never shown him anything but the utmost contempt! But here he was, ready to die to uphold some farce so that she might have more time to spend with those she loved. It was unbelievable, and yet there he was, as clear as day. But he couldn't hold out forever. His sister would kill him soon enough. No! Not now! He couldn't die! Not after such bravery, such devotion! To think that such a man, a man such as Keitaro, was still living at Hinata House! No. She wouldn't let him die. It wasn't fair! But now her sister had unsheathed her blade, and was drawing it up for a blow that would remove his head. Killing him. Because of her. He had no hope, no chance to escape. Blind. Bloodied. Broken. She had to do something! She had to-

As Tsuruko brought down her blade, it did not meet the warm flesh of Kentaro's defenseless neck, but rang against the hard metal of Motoko's sword. Tsuruko stumbled backwards at the reversal of her blow, and smiled at her sister warmly. Indeed, this was the Motoko she remembered. Her warm gaze met her sister's icy glare, and for perhaps the first time, her sister was completely unafraid of her. Perhaps she had crossed the line?

"Motoko-" She began.

"Just. Go." Ordered Motoko, surprised at the coldness in her voice, despite her internal terror. If her sister pressed the attack, she could not hope to defeat her, she could not protect Kentaro.

"Very well."

Motoko's icy stare turned to a look of surprise.

"I apologize for the interruption. It has been a long day, and I am quite tired. I shall see you both in the morning." With that, the older woman sheathed her sword and strode calmly from the hot-spring and into the house.

Motoko, watched, stupefied, as her sister entered the house and slid the door behind her. Her reverie was only disturbed as she heard the gurgled coughing of Kentaro as he disgorged yet more blood. His arms shook unsteadily, and the bruises all over his body had begun to turn a brackish purple.

"M.. Motoko?" he murmured, looking around for her, as he was still blindfolded, "Are… are you ok?" He collapsed into the ground with a heavy thud. Motoko looked down at the man at her feet. Was _she_ ok? He had just been beaten to a bloody pulp, and he asked if _she_ had been harmed. Once again, Motoko cursed her misjudgment. She dropped to her knees, and wrapped her arms around the bruised and bloodied young man.

"Why? Why did you do that? You … you could have been killed!" she demanded, as tears began to roll down her face. But he was already unconscious, and gave her no answer.

Haruka had heard a commotion from the kitchen, and was moving towards the baths to investigate as she passed Motoko's older sister. Her eyes widened as she noticed the swordswoman's bloodstained hilt, and, guessing what may have occurred, rushed into the hotspring. There was Motoko, crying, her arms encircling Kentaro's bruised and bloodied form. Haruka rushed towards them; if Kentaro died now… he'd leave about one million yen in debts still unpaid. She knelt down next to the pair. Motoko was still sobbing, her face buried in Kentaro's shoulder.

"Oy! Boya! Wake up!" yelled Haruka as she slapped Kentaro lightly. All the response she got was a slow, phlegmatic trickle of blood from the corner of Kentaro's mouth.

"Is… is he dead?" asked Motoko, regaining some composure. Haruka looked in surprise at Motoko. She hadn't even been this broken up when Keitaro had left… what the hell had happened out there?

"No. Just unconscious," replied Haruka reassuringly, "here, help me get him inside." The two women propped up Kentaro's unconscious form, holding his arms around their shoulders and dragging him up, into his house.

"Here, help me put him in my room," commanded Motoko. Haruka complied silently, though inwardly she couldn't help another shudder of surprise. What _had_ happened out there? She made a mental note to extract every detail from Kentaro after he woke up. This was going to be better than her Korean soap operas.

The two women laid Kentaro down on Motoko's futon, Motoko taking special care to lay him down gently. She looked up to Haruka, who stood over Kentaro's form while Motoko kneeled over it.

"What… what do we do now? Is he going to wake up?"

"Eventually. Best we can do for him now is put some ice on those bruises," replied Haruka as she turned to leave, "I'll go get it, why don't you go get dressed? You look pretty cold."

"I'm fine, Haruka. Please go get the ice quickly." It was a request, but it sounded more like an order to Haruka, who quickly sped off to the kitchen.

Alone with Kentaro, Motoko seemed to look at him for the first time. She had always imagined him to be some soft-skinned ninny, but now, she saw that his skin was leathered and tough, with numerous scars nicked over his hands, no doubt from his long hours slaving over the tea shop stove. Also, his body was, muscular, toned and defined, and his face was handsome, despite the extensive bruising and blood. She blushed as she entertained brief romantic thoughts. But those bruises… those were her fault. She had asked for his help, hadn't she? It was her fault.

Kentaro awoke into a world of pain. Memories of the night's events came reeling back to him through a veil of agony. His "marriage" to Motoko, her cold indifference, his sound beating at the hands of her sister… it seemed like some nightmare, yet the pain throughout his body testified to it's truth. He attempted to open his eyes, and remembered the blindfold. As he raised his arm in an attempt to move it, throbbing pain shot through it, and he groaned loudly.

"Ah! Kentaro! Are… are you awake?" Came what sounded like Motoko's voice, but this wasn't the voice of the woman he knew, she sounded… kind.

"Motoko? Is that you? Are you alright?" He remembered the danger she had been in; had he failed to protect her?

"Of... of course I am! What are you talking about? You're the one that got beaten up!"

"I mean, your sister… did she make you…"

Recollection dawned on Motoko. He was still worried about her leaving! Waking up after being beaten to unconsciousness, and his first thoughts were to her safety… to the help he had sworn to her to give.

"Don't worry… she's… she's not making me leave anytime soon."

"Oh… Good," responded Kentaro now uncertain of what to do next. Motoko looked down at him, biting her lip as she kneeled beside him. There was a pause as neither of them spoke. Had she said something wrong? Was he angry? Angry that she had asked so much of him, and given so little in return?

"Uhm… Motoko? asked Kentaro, a little embarrassed, "Can.. can I take off the blindfold now?" Once again, Motoko cursed herself silently.

"Sure, no problem… here… I'll get it for you." Motoko quickly undid the bandage around Kentaro's eyes, and they fluttered open. The two stared each other for a moment, and then blushed a deep crimson before both looking away.

"Kentaro?"

"Yes?"

"Why… why did you… why didn't you just let her take me?" asked Motoko softly.

Kentaro sighed inwardly, thinking to himself. Why hadn't he just stepped aside? He wasn't sure himself. But then… yes. That letter, which he had received about one year ago…

_One last thing, Kentaro. Please, look after all the girls for me._

"You never got to say goodbye, did you?"

"What?"

"To Urashima. You never got to say goodbye."

"I... I suppose not."

"Well, if you left now, you wouldn't get to. You should at least hang around until he gets back, if nothing else."

"Kentaro…" He had guessed it perfectly. It was true that she was not yet ready to face her sister in combat, but what was really holding her back from leaving was Keitaro. Not getting to say goodbye, not getting to apologize to him for all the pain she had caused… that was the real reason she could not leave.

As Motoko bent over him, looking into his eyes, Kentaro once again noticed how cute she was. He still had only his towel on, and it looked like she was just wearing a robe- No! Dammit! He did not get the crap beat out of him just to get an easy lay! Not even he was that low. But she was so damn cute… No! Pull it together, Kentaro, this is most definetly _not_ the time for _that _of all things!

It was true that she still carried a torch for Keitaro, after all this time. But Keitaro was not here. He had left. Abandoned them, practically. Not with out good reason, mind you. But still, Keitaro was gone, and here was this boy- no, this _man_ who had been willing to die just so she would be able to stay at the place she loved, and maybe get a chance to confess her feelings to some other man. She had misjudged him, misjudged him by an incredible margin. She had allowed prejudice and her own pride to keep her from realizing, that this, here, was a man that she... Well, he was handsome, and strong, strong enough to take a beating that would have probably broken even Keitaro's spirit. And… didn't she owe him something for that? No. That wasn't it. It was something else entirely. For the first time… she _desired_ someone. And here he was… just waiting, for her to…

The door was closed and locked, the house was asleep… Kentaro was running out of options. Oh God, what should he do? He didn't want to hurt her, this was the first time he actually cared about a girl… he didn't want to screw this up! Should he push her away, try to distance himself from it all? No, that'd just make it worse. Then what? Just go with the flow? Wake up tomorrow, 'thanks for the fun, doll, see yah later' ? No. He didn't want to be like that anymore…He needed to… he needed to…

A/N: See "Crimson" in my fictionpress profile for the full version of these stories.


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